


Past the mask

by Mazen



Series: Masked [2]
Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux, Phantom - Susan Kay, Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: Angst, Erik is insecure, F/M, Fluff, Modern AU, Smut, Their friends meddle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-10-30 11:56:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17828090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mazen/pseuds/Mazen
Summary: Following Masked Meetings:Christine is excited to see Erik again, but when he finally arrives, things turn sour.Will Erik get past his issues?





	1. Implications

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following Masked Meetings:  
> Christine is excited to see Erik again, but when he finally arrives, things turn sour.  
> Will Erik get past his issues?

Christine was excited. It was the first time she would see Erik since he'd slept over last Sunday. They'd both been very late on Monday because they had spent the morning having sex after she'd accepted the visage he hid beneath the mask. It had been clear to them both that it was the beginning of something big and she'd expected to see him again soon. 

But Erik had been busy with work every day and night of the week, except Wednesday where Christine taught piano lessons and therefore couldn't see him. According to Erik he usually stayed at least til midnight at the theater that he owned with his friend Nadir. Though he didn't say it outright, it was obvious that he always stayed so late because he didn't have any social life and preferred to stay at the theater to work than to go home alone. 

But now he had her and she hoped that he would set time off for her. She was quickly falling in love with this man and yearned to send more time with him, both in and out of the bedroom. It was now Saturday which meant it had been five days since they'd last seen each other. They'd texted and talked on the phone every day which had been the best parts of her day this past week, but it wasn't enough.

It also frustrated her that their phone calls mostly had consisted of her talking while he contributed with warm comments, but not many details about himself. And his texts were quite business-like. She reasoned that he probably never texted anyone out of a business context. He wasn't the type to open himself up to others, something she normally wasn't either, but felt that she could with him. She hoped that he would feel the same way with her. It just meant that they actually had to spend time together. 

She'd initially hoped that her accepting his misshaped face had been enough for him to let his guard down, but his face was literally just the surface of his issues. And she would deal with them one by one. She wasn't ready to give up, but she wondered if he felt the same way about her. 

Finally there was a knock on the door at exactly 4 pm as they had agreed on. She wondered briefly if he'd been waiting outside in his car to arrive just on time because she had the feeling that he was the type to do that. But she pushed the thought away and opened the door. The sight that meant her was of Erik's tall, lean frame wrapped in a black suit without a tie and the white mask covering his face, only letting her see his kind eyes, his thin mouth and sharp chin. He looked like all the other times she'd seen him, except when he'd been naked and unmasked in her bed. She liked his look, but the latter was preferred.

He looked completely baffled when she instantly threw her arms around his neck and kissed him hard on the lips. Only after several seconds later did he start to respond. Oh, how she loved the feel of his lips on hers. From the second she'd felt the touch of his lips when they'd first met, she'd ended her on and off again relationship with Raoul for good. Instead she'd been almost obsessed with finding Erik and though it had taken her a year, it was all worth it. 

When he didn't deepen their kiss, she nibbled his bottom lip and felt his lips parting. Their tongues met halfway, hers insisting and his timidly, but they both slightly whimpered at the intimate contact. His long arms finally circled her waist and pulled her closer against his long body. She ran her hands up in his dark brown hair and tucked lightly, enjoying the groan deep in his throat.

He pulled back, his breath as hard as her own. "Hello, Christine," he managed to say breathlessly with his honey coned voice. It was filled with desire and the thought that it was because of her sent shivers down her spine. She smiled seductively at him and began leaning into him again, but was disappointed when he slid out of her arms and further into the apartment. Of course, he was a private person and they had been standing in the doorway. Mrs. Jenner from the neighboring apartment would probably appreciate it too that they closed the door. So she did.

Erik looked nervously around the apartment as if he hadn't spent Sunday evening and a lot of Monday there. She stepped closer, but he didn't meet her eyes, instead he seemed to examine the place she shared with Meg. It wasn't the fanciest place. It had the worn furniture and mostly bare walls, but it was what they could afford to have. Christine had won a scholarship to the Conservatory and had initially moved into the dorms until she met Meg who asked her to move in with her.

The apartment belonged to Meg's mother who was a teacher at the Conservatory and Meg and Christine paid very little rent. She earned money by teaching piano to rich kids on Monday afternoons and Wednesday evenings while Meg worked as a barista at a local coffee shop. They lived paycheck to paycheck, but rarely worried about bills. 

They were comfortable there, but perhaps it wasn't the same for Erik. She knew that Raoul wasn't crazy about being there and when they had been in a relationship, they would stay at his place mostly. Now that they were back at being just friends, he often stopped by, but probably only because she and Meg didn't visit him. His apartment was out of their way, further from the Conservatory, unlike their own apartment.

"Would you prefer to go to your place?" Christine asked, kind of worried that he would say yes. She wanted to see his apartment, but they'd finally found time together and she didn't want to spend some of it on transport to his apartment which was downtown, close to his theater, she knew. And she hoped that he could feel comfortable here. He hesitated, then finally made eye contact with her for the first time since he entered.

"Is that what you want to, Christine?"

"I just want to be with you, Erik." She said and walked over to him in the open kitchen, but stopped when she noticed that he backed up against the kitchen cabinets. "What's wrong?" She couldn't recognize the look in his eyes, but he didn't look like he had last Monday when he'd left her place. He looked almost doubtful.

"Why do you want me?" He answered her question with another question and she definitely detected doubt and worry now.

She shrugged with a little smile and tried touch his right hand gently. It was obvious that his first instinct was to pull away which made her smile turn into a frown, but then he relaxed and allowed her to take his hand in hers. She was getting a bit worried. He'd only flinched like that around her when she'd been near his mask or face.

"I like to talk to you and be near you." She said sincerely and looked from their joined hands to his eyes again. The masked obskurred many of his expressions and she realized that she had already gotten used to seeing him without it since Monday. When she closed her eyes and pictured him, it was his noseless face underneath the mask.

"We have a great chemistry, I think, and your voice can send shivers down my spine." She blushed when she thought about his deep breathless voice when they were in the thrones of passion. "Since I first met you, I've thought about you so often. I want to know more about you and your life and be a part of it. And I thought you felt the same way." Her last words were a bit exasperated because the look in his eyes was even more unsure than before.

"I did... I do," he replied quickly, then hesitated again. "It's just that I had a talk with Darius, he's our accountant and he expressed his worry that... some women might be interested in something else..."

"What would that be?" She asked perplexed.

"Well, my money." His reply was embarrassed and yet accusing. She let his hand go and took a step back.

"So you think that I'm what? Some kind of gold digger?" He tried to speak, but she was too angry to let him. "I didn't even know you had any money!" She felt tears pickling in her eyes and turned away in anger and hurt.

"Anyone will know about my fortune if they google my name." He sounded bitter.

"Well, I never did. I just searched for a theater, your name and Nadir. Then I found a number and called Nadir. I didn't search further with your name." She never even thought about it. Nor the fact that he owned a theater. It wasn't especially big, so she didn't expect them to make a lot of money, not that she'd even thought about having any share in it.

"Why should I believe that? No one in my entire life has been willing to look past my face. The mask has frightened them, along with my unpleasant personality and anyone who came any closer was disgusted by my face." His resigned and hurt voice was begging her to listen and she wanted to wrap her arms around him and comfort him. But she was hurt too. And his next words cut the deepest. "I can't find any other plausible reason for you to be interested in me, except for my money."

"Get out!" She yelled as she turned around to face him and let her tears go. She looked into his eyes and pointed to the door. "Get out, get out, get out! I don't want you here!" It should've felt cathartic to shout like that, but it didn't. His eyes were glistening with surprise and pain, his mouth was slightly opened as if he had something to say.

"Christi-"

"No, leave, Erik. Now!" She didn't want to hear whatever he had to say. He'd said enough. She turned away from him and walked a little down the hall to her bedroom and leaned against the wall as she let herself cry properly. A flash of black passed the space from the kitchen to the door and she heard it open and shut. He was gone. Her cries turned into sobs as their conversation replayed over and over again in her head.

 

***

A few hours passed, but Christine found it hard to move. Her phone on the small dining table went off a few times, two texts and a phone call, but she didn't want to see who it was. It didn't matter. Whatever she and Erik had was ruined by his implications. She knew that he was insecure and never had any experience with relationships, but that he could think her to be the type who would use her body to get money... It's like the connection, she thought they had, had been completely one sided.

She'd never withheld from anyone that her dad and she had been poor. When she was a kid, she didn't notice it. They moved around a lot and since they never had a house to live in and she never had her own room, she didn't compare her house or toys with others'. Sometimes they lived in the rich parts of a city where the children were dressed in the finest clothing, but they'd also lived in poor neighborhoods where the kids, she went to school with, wore dirty clothes with holes in it. Her dad always made sure that she didn't do that.

It wasn't until she became a teenager and more understanding of the world that she noticed. Her dad was a struggling musician and a single parent. The violin was his only real skill which he was a master of, but it was hard to find work. He'd never gone to the Conservatory or even finished school in Sweden. So when it became obvious that Christine had musical skills like himself, he'd made it clear that she should get a proper education.

She'd just gotten her scholarship when her dad had gotten sick. It was stomach cancer and it spread quickly to his organs. They'd lived in a small town outside of Paris at the time and Christine had wanted to wait before moving to the dormitories, but her dad had convinced her it was for the best. Fortunately he had a wonderful nurse to take care of him on weekdays while Christine came home every weekend to take care of him. He'd died on a Friday, only an hour after she came home. The nurse said that it was as if he waited to see his daughter one last time before passing.

The nurse had stayed and helped her with the arrangements. After that she was completely alone. But luckily she'd already become good friends with Meg and when Christine's dad died, they became even closer. Meg had lost her dad when she was 10 and supported Christine when she went through the worst grief. It was also around this time that she moved in with Meg.

Later she'd met Raoul. He was rich, something he'd almost bragged about from the first time they met. Well, his family was. But she'd never really felt comfortable in his family's large fancy mansion and it had never been a factor in their relationship. He'd never implied that she might be interested in his money and he'd even tried gifting her jewelry and other things when they'd first started dating. She hadn't liked it, so he stopped when she asked him to. Instead he showered her with his mild nature and kindness, but she sometimes felt uncomfortable with his behavior towards other people which is why they broke up several times. She'd always gone back to him again though because he was so sweet. He'd been her first and well, her only lover until she met Erik. 

When she first met Erik everything had changed. The chaste kiss between them had felt like so much more than sex with Raoul did and she knew that even if she never found Erik again, she wouldn't settle for anything less in her life. She didn't believe in soulmates, but she believed in chemical attraction. Raoul wasn't for her. He'd been reluctant to accept this and every time he started to drink, he'd come onto her. But he was a decent guy and he never became aggressive and always apologize. When Christine had met Erik for the second time, Raoul had finally seemed to give up.

 

It was Raoul who found her in the hallway, hours after Erik had left. After knocking a few times he carefully opened the front door. "Chris? Meg? Sorry, I just forgot my..." He looked down the hall and saw Christine sitting defeated against the wall. "Chris? What's wrong?" He asked in a kind voice as he sat down beside her and pulled her closer. "I thought you were meeting with that Erik guy?"

The mention of his name was enough for her to burst into tears. The pain of his implications still stung. Raoul hauled her up from the floor and led her over to the couch. He left shortly, coming back with a glass of cold water and tissues. He'd comforted her many times the first year after her dad's death and often knew what she needed when the words left her.

But this was a different kind of pain and she had plenty of words. She told Raoul everything Erik had said and appreciated Raoul's reaction and anger over Erik's conduct. Later Meg arrived home from work and opened a bottle of wine as she and Raoul tried to cheer Christine up. They really did their best, but it didn't work and when Christine finally landed on her bed, she wondered if she'd ever see Erik again.

 


	2. Considerations

Erik turned off his phone when he came home, discarded his jacket and went straight to the piano. When he sat down he realized that he should've gotten a drink first, but it was too late. His hands were already touching the ivory and ebony keys, playing a melody of sorrow and loss while tears fell into his mask. It wasn't the first time he'd lost something good in his life and it wouldn't be the last. But it felt worse this time, perhaps because he'd let himself become so close to her. He'd let her see beneath the mask and she'd let him willingly into her bed.

He wondered if sex always felt like it had been for him with her. In just one morning he'd come three times, something he'd never imagined possible, especially at his age of 35. It had seemed improbable when he had been aroused again after she'd sucked him dry, but when he had gotten hard once more after they'd had sex, it had been unfathomable. Yet she brought that passion and lust out in him.

They had just gotten dressed, she'd fetched his mask and just wanted a kiss before he put the mask back on. But it had quickly grown to be more than a kiss. It wasn't long before he had her pinned against the wall and travelled the short distance from her lips to the apex of her legs, fueled by the moans and whimpers that escaped her when he used his mouth on her. He'd licked and sucked her nub and enjoyed the feeling of her fingers gripping his hair. Her legs had shaken, barely holding her weight when he'd inserted two fingers into her and marvelled as her inner muscles gripped him. He had continued, even as her knees bucked and he had to hold her upright as he lapped up the juices flowing from her. 

His cock had been aching after her climax surpassed and she'd wasted no time when the strength in her legs had returned. She'd pushed him down on the bed and rid him of his pants before straddling him and impaling herself on his length. They had gasped simultaneously before she started to ride him. He'd literally ripped the shirt off her in a sudden frenzy and admired the way her breasts bounced as she moved above him. She'd rubbed herself against on his pubic bone and the sight of her pleasuring herself on him was so intoxicating that he'd just barely managed to fight back his orgasm until she'd wriggled and moaned above him. 

The urge to ravish her had followed him the whole week and had distracted him to the point where he wondered if the lack of sex had been the reason for his exceptional drive and discipline. But the music he'd composed with their sexual entanglements in mind had been extraordinary and unlike any other. It was something he'd lacked in his work - that passion which turned something great into something incredible. Until now. 

His fingers suddenly couldn't create anything original after his fight with Christine. Not even the sorrowful tunes were in any way original. He revisited some of the more enticing melodies he had written the past week after being intimate with Christine, but it just left him extremely aroused. The kiss they'd shared before their fight still lingered on his lips and he closed his eyes to imagine how different this day could've gone.

 

He wouldn't have ended the kiss, but instead have kicked the door closed and instantly picked her up, so she could wrap her legs around his waist. He would've carried her to the kitchen table and disposed her there long enough to remove the shirt that hid her beautiful breasts. She would've moaned as he worshipped her skin with his mouth. She had told him how impressed she was with his instincts, especially his mouth. It had amazed him because he would never have imagined that his thin lips would be incapable of pleasuring a woman. And that he would be aroused by doing it was even more incredible. 

He would kiss and nibble her everywhere, slowly removing her clothes on the way until they both were panting and couldn't wait any longer to merge their bodies.

He rose from his piano bench to stand as he would've done with Christine on the kitchen table as he released his straining erection from the restricting material of his trousers. He wrapped his hand around his cock and imagined sinking into Christine's warm body, her core gripping him tightly. His hand was a poor replacement, but he started to thrust into his palm, trying to recall the sounds she'd made last Monday.

The fantasy was so exquiste that it didn't take long before he was close, but he held on like he'd done when he had wanted her come first. He remembered the look on her face and her calling his name as he came roughly in his hand, groaning "Ah, Christiiiine." 

He tried to draw out the moment before he had to open his eyes, but his cum was about to drip from his hand. How pathetic he was! Fantasising about a woman he'd lost by insulting, then degrading her further by using the memory of her to satisfy his lust. But it was so different now that he knew what it was like. 

He could've felt the pleasures of the flesh a long time ago. It wasn't difficult to find a prostitute who'd even bed a man with his face for the right amount. But he'd vowed that he would rather die as a virgin than buy the illusion of being cared for. His mother had done that. She'd paid nannies to give him the affection she wouldn't give him and she had often gushed about how expensive it was to find someone who would touch a boy with such a face. In the end he'd avoided any of the nannies' signs of affections and had begun doing everything for himself at a very young age. 

He rarely let anyone come close. He didn't know why he'd let Christine invade his life, his body and his mind in such a short time. Nadir had forced his way in, not taking any of Erik's "bullshit" as he so elegantly put it and perhaps Christine had done the same, but instead of using crude comments and humour as Nadir, she had used her female allure. 

He'd never imagined that Christine was a woman to use her allure go gain something. And he still wasn't sure. When Darius had first mentioned it, he'd found the idea preposterous, but the accountant had told him to be careful and watch out for penniless students who wanted to live more lavishly and would choose rich, unfavourable men. That was another way of saying ugly of course which is what Erik was.

The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. He couldn't see Christine as that type, but maybe it was part of the act. He knew that he didn't have anything going for him. He was ugly and gangly with a bad temper and an awful personality. Sure his mind was brilliant, but few people got to see that. However he owned a theater and had inherited a lot of money he didn't want which made him a prime target for gold diggers. He just never thought anyone was that desperate.

He cursed the press for exposing his name when his mother died. It had been a blessing that they'd never gotten a picture of his face nor his mask, but his name in the papers and that he had returned to France had been enough. If someone googled the name Erik Le Seine, they would be able to read about the fortune he'd inherited when Madeleine Le Seine died, the widow of the great oil tycoon Charles Le Seine. His father had earned a lot of money on oil in the middle east, but had to flee France when he got accused of tax evasion with good cause. He and Madeleine settled in Iran where he had a lot of connections. He had died when Madeleine was only a few months along in her pregnancy, leaving Erik with a mother who hated her deformed son and tried to fix him with the best charlatans money could buy in Iran.

Erik had been 17 when he left Iran and went to France where his name was unknown because everyone had forgotten about Charles Le Seine. Erik'd met Nadir on the journey to France and couldn't seem to get rid of him again. It had turned out to be useful when Erik's mother died two years later and created a media storm about Charles Le Seine's heir in France. Nadir had helped him avoid the press for several years and together they'd built enough capital to buy the theater. Nadir never questioned Erik's decision to not touch his inheritance and he was eternal grateful for that. 

He could've given it up to charity in a grand gesture, so the press thought that his fortune was gone, but it would've put more focus on him which he didn't want. So the money from his parents just sat in the bank to never be used.

 

The whole weekend he thought about Christine and the hurt expression on her face as she told him to get out. He became more and more convinced that he'd made a terrible mistake, but some part of him kept doubting. It was the part of him that held so much self loathing that he couldn't possibly see why Christine would want to be with him. She'd been a little too fast to accept his face, hadn't she? And she'd been too persistent to see him again, right?

Little did it matter because he had ruined it all now. He wondered though if it would've been worth it to have a gold digger in his life if it was Christine.

 

***

Erik knew that Nadir would be pissed if he heard what had happened when Erik visited Christine on Saturday. So he came in early Monday morning, plugged his phone in the charger in his office and went down to the storage room where they kept all the instruments. Erik liked to tinker down there and Nadir knew that he shouldn't disturb Erik unless it was of utmost importance. 

Most of his free time in life was spent on composing. Creating something from nothing was a passion he'd had from childhood and he'd used every platform he could: Architecture, sculpture and painting. But it was music that captured his soul and could contain the many nuances he needed to express the pain, rejection and anger he'd experienced. 

After he'd met Christine, his music had changed. But it was over now.

He was testing if his addition of the violin was working in the passionate aria he'd written the week before when the door burst open. He'd expected Nadir to show up at some point, but instead of the middle eastern man a young boy came in with a scowl on his face. He couldn't be more than 25 years old and looked vaguely familiar, but not enough for Erik to place him. His hair was half long and the color of beach sand, he had plain blue eyes and was built like a jock, though not especially tall.

"You're Erik?" The boy said and came closer. He wasn't imposing or menacing, but it was very obvious that he was angry about something. Erik nodded and put the violin down in its case. "I'm Raoul." Ah, that explained where he might've seen the boy. Christine had mentioned him and how kind he was to her. It likely explained why he was here too.

"Nice to meet you, monsieur. We have a mutual acquaintance." Erik replied indifferently. He didn't really want to hear any more about Christine. After the pitiful weekend where he'd lingered too long in his sorrow, he'd promised himself to only indulge in his pain of losing her - no, casting her away - when he was composing.

"That's right, we do. Do you then know what my last name is?" Raoul asked, bewildering Erik with his seemingly pointless question.

"I don't believe I do." He shrugged, occupying himself with tidying the room up after the mess he'd made this morning. Anything to avoid contact with other people, especially this man who knew Christine. Perhaps she'd gone back to dating this boy and he came to gloat. Erik didn't need that. He was barely holding on and he wasn't sure he could stay composed if this boy talked about being with Christine.

"de Chagny." Raoul answered like it should mean something. It didn't. Erik finally looked up at the boy with raised eyebrows, letting him know that he didn't recognize the name. "As in Chagny's Sporting Goods?" 

"I might've heard that before." Erik mumbled. "But it doesn't explain why you're telling me this. What do I care about sporting goods?"

"My family is the richest in Europe, owning stores all around the globe." Raoul said proudly. So he was simply bragging and now he would brag about having Christine too. Just great, Erik thought sarcastically.

"Good for you. Did you come down here to tell me this or was there more?" Erik was done with this, he decided. He walked past the boy to leave the room, but the other man caught his upper arm and turned him to look at him. Erik wasn't good at confrontations and normally this could easily end in a fight, but the topic of Christine had made him so vulnerable and now he feared that he'd break down instead. "If you come to explain your triumph, get it over with." He managed to croak out.

"You really care for her." Raoul stated as he tried to catch Erik's eye. "Then why accuse her of being after your money?"

Erik's blood started to boil and he struggled out of the boy's grip. "Of course a pretty boy like you doesn't understand. What do you know about being ugly? I bet your parents showered you with love instead of buying it for you! I bet you were friends with everyone in school! I bet people smile to you when you pass them, not cower in fear! I have nothing, but those cursed money, so why should Christine want anything else?"

He turned around to blink the tears out of his eyes. His anger was pointed at Raoul, but he wasn't mad at the boy. He wasn't mad at anyone except himself. How could he blame people for acting like you were supposed to when you came across something vile.

"You just don't get it! You clearly have serious issues, but Christine actually likes you. She actually dumped me completely when she first met you. Before she knew anything about you. And Meg told me that all you did was talk and kiss once! Why the hell would she dump an immensely rich 'pretty boy' as you so elegantly call me for you?"

The boy's implication that he was better than Erik might've angered him further if he wasn't so full of self loathing already. This Raoul de Chagny was surely much better than Erik at probably everything. Sure, he was definitely more intelligent than the boy, but that was the only redeeming thing he had going for him.

Erik cleared his throat, but kept his back turned away from the other man. He still had wet eyes and there was no need to show any more weaknesses. "Why are you telling me this? Don't you want her to yourself?" He asked. He couldn't compete with the likes of Raoul. It was that kind of man Christine deserved, not some loathsome corpse. He'd be competing with that kind of men if he was with Christine.

"Sure I do, but that ship is sailed. She hasn't wanted me as anything but a friend since she met you." Raoul answered meekly. "It's been hard to come to terms with because I actually thought we belonged together, but I get it now. Or I did. She was so happy last week and talked about you constantly. She still does, just in less kind words."

Erik turned around again and met the honest look of the sandy haired boy. He got the feeling that this boy wasn't the type to lie and probably couldn't a secret if it was to save his life. Erik doubted that Christine had allowed her friend to come here.

"So what do you want me to do?" He asked this young boy who knew more about real life than Erik did. No matter how much he had read and studied humanity, it never helped when he was in social situations. "She was pretty clear about not wanting me near her."

Raoul laughed, clearly not acknowledging or understanding that it was Erik's only chance at happiness at stake. "Dude, I don't know. I know she loves chocolate over flowers, but she hates it when someone brings her small gifts, so It's out of the question anyway. Maybe just be yourself?" He shrugged and Erik rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"No one likes it when I'm myself." He muttered.

Raoul laughed again and walked past Erik, briefly patting him on the shoulder which made Erik fly away from him in reflex. Raoul looked back at him, surprised by this reaction. He shrugged again. "Maybe she is the one person who actually likes it." He said as he left the room.

A moment later Nadir entered the room, looking behind him presumably to watch Raoul leave. "Who was that?" He asked, but stopped Erik before he could answer. "Nevermind. I got a call from Meg yesterday, you know, Christine's friend. What the hell did you do?!" He growled, but Erik walked past him.

"Ruin my chance of happiness of course. Nothing new."


	3. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik grows some balls. Kind of.
> 
> Ends with smutty smut.

"Christine?" It was the fourth time he knocked without getting any answer. He knew she was home because Nadir had asked Meg. She was there and she was ignoring him. "Please, it's Erik." He said clearly, then mumbled. "You probably know that or else you would've answered the door." He even tried the doorbell without any luck. 

"Christine, I don't know how to fix this, but I've decided that I'm staying out here until you let me talk to you." He sat down and leaned against the door, hoping that his plan would work. He didn't have any other plan. Since his talk with Raoul on Monday he'd called her and texted several sincere apologies, but without any replies. He had stopped by her apartment every evening, but she never opened the door. At first he'd suspected that she wasn't home until Meg had opened the door on Thursday and just shaken her head in sympathy before closing it again. 

It was Friday now, Meg had assured Nadir that Christine would be home while Meg would be out all evening (with Nadir actually). It was off-season at their theater and they only practiced on weekdays, so Erik decided then and there that he would stay until Christine opened the door. 

He thought about all the things he was going to say to her, but none of them felt sufficient. The truth was that he was a broken soul and she was an angel sent down from the heavens to save him. And he had turned her away, insulted her even. He was so damn unworthy of her and he couldn't blame her for rejecting him now after the way he'd treated her. She deserved the world and he couldn't even give her his trust. 

Erik's mind was probably as big a problem as his mask was. He thought too much about everything, never following his instincts unless it was about music. With Christine he'd tried following his gut feeling instead of thinking too much about it. And it was easy for him when she was there with him. The doubts only came when they parted. 

Once again he thought about the incredible morning he'd spent in Christine's bed where the only thing on his mind had been her and her body. She had consumed him so completely that he had turned off his brain and for moments even felt like a normal man. She had looked at him with desire and compassion, never disgust or fear. That alone had made the time making love to her precious to him. 

But the sex wasn't the reason he was sitting on the cold and frankly floor outside her apartment. If she decided that they weren't going to be lovers again, he would still beg her to let him be in her life. Because her brown eyes looked at him in a way he'd never experienced before. With interest, compassion and most important of all: Acceptance. 

She was sweet, fun, intelligent and beautiful - all the things Erik had never dared to dream of having in his life. If only he could convey his feelings to her through the door.

Suddenly he realized that he could. He could sing to her and use music to explain it all to her. So he began to sing all of the famous arias he could remember that converted the words he could not say. One by one he went through the most passionate arias from Carmen, Romeo and Juliet, Faust and even La Traviata like she'd sung for him a few weeks ago. He even threw in a couple of musical numbers. 

Just as he finished singing of Alfredo's longing for Violetta he heard the sound of a lock turning, but quickly discovered that it was only the neighbor, an elderly woman with curly grey hair and a floral dress who peeked into the hall. 

"Young man, I enjoy your beautiful voice, but it's too late for Verdi. The nice girls aren't going to open the door, so please leave or I'll call the cops." The old woman nearly slammed the door closed, quite shocking after her polite threat. 

He rose from his place in front of the door and went down the hallway, dragging his feet loudly.

 

***

Christine was disappointed when Mrs. Jenner's threat to call the police was enough to send Erik away. She'd been sitting by the door with a glass of wine and listened to his beautiful velvet voice wrapping her in cocoon of every romantic aria ever written for a tenor. She wondered if his voice could carry a whole theater. It seemed very likely, but why didn't he perform then? It surely couldn't just be the mask.

She'd been surprised when he had decided to stay by the door until she opened it. Did he even know for sure that she was home? Of course, Meg could've told him that. She knew her roommate had been conspiring with Nadir to get them back together, but Christine had been reluctant. She was still hurt. Not even Erik's texts or his daily visits to her apartment could undo that. Surely he must be able to understand that he had gone too far by claiming that she only had interest in his money. To even think such a thing!

She'd decided not to google him after his revelation that it was easy to find him there. It was the principal of it after he'd expected that she was the type who did that. And honestly she wanted him to be the one to tell her about his life, not a search engine. 

After sitting on the floor by the door a few minutes after Erik had left, she sighed and finally rose to walk to the kitchen with her now empty glass of wine. It'd been silly to think that he would stay out there all night. Even if she was the only one he'd let come close to him, he would now realize that there were more fish in the sea for him if he just threw in some effort to catch them. He shouldn't pick the first to jump into his net. 

"Christine" 

Was that her imagination?

"Christiiiiine..." she heard again, coming from the front door. She slid stealthy over to the door and looked out the peephole. It was Erik! "Christine, I don't know if you can hear me," he whispered against the door, "but I don't want your neighbor to call the police. She thinks I've left now, I saw her watching me from her window, but I just parked on the other side of the building."

He suddenly disappeared, but he must've sat down with his back against the door like before because she could still hear him whispering. She sat down again and put her ear against the door.

"I can't sing anymore for you. It's bad enough for my voice to whisper, but I don't even believe I can carry a tune in a low voice. I just want you to know that I'm still out here. I want to show you that I _do_ trust you, I'm just not sure how..."

She didn't know either. She wanted to forgive him, but it felt like such a burden to deal with him. She didn't feel like she really knew him after all. It had been too early to sleep with him, the physical attraction had been no excuse. That he could even entertain the thought that she might be after his money and that it was his first question the next time they'd met after having sex... It was unbelievable.

But she couldn't let him go either. If she could, she would've opened the door and asked him to leave long ago. Or called the cops like Mrs. Jenner had threatened. Instead she sat against the door and waited for something to change either of their minds.

"I guess I can tell you something... that I haven't really told anyone at all." He whispered. She straightened her back a bit and listened more attentively. "I really hope that you're there though because I'd rather not talk about it." He sounded vulnerable and Christine knew that she should stop him because he shouldn't feel forced to say something he didn't want to. But she had the feeling that he actually needed to get some of the brudens, he seemed to carry, off his shoulders.

"My father was a oil tycoon who fled France because of tax evasion. My mother followed him and they settled in Iran. My father passed away when my mother was still pregnant with me and she refused to ever talk about him. I only know a few things about him from the press.

"My mother was pregnant and alone in a foreign country. She could've gone back to France and claimed innocence, but she would've had to pay back all the taxes my father owed the government, so she chose to stay in Iran.

"I was born with a cleft lip and cleft palate which means that the space between my mouth and nose had a wide gap. I also had Aplasia Cutis Congenita on the upper part of my face - I think you can guess where - which means that the skin was completely missing. On top of that I have mild Craniometaphyseal dysplasia, causing my eyes to lie deeper in my skull, and Marfan syndrome which gives me long, thin limps and probably adds to my misshaped face.

"As you can imagine my mother was horrified by the monster she'd given birth to. She didn't want to touch me and the only reason I wasn't left to die was because of a midwife who made sure that a nanny was hired to take care of me."

 

On the other side of the door Christine was trying to hold back her sobs. This was worse that she could ever have imagined. Such a little baby to be ignored by his mother! She wasn't sure that she wanted to hear more, but Erik continued. He had lived it, surely she could bear to hear about it.

 

"When my mother realized that she couldn't just get rid of me, she covered me up with something. My first mask sharped for my face was given to me when I was two weeks old. It was easier for my mother and those around me.

"She started looking for someone who could...  _fix me._ It wasn't hard to find someone to do a surgery on a baby in Iran if you had enough money which she did. My missing skin should've been prioritized, but instead she covered me in bandages daily and expected it to heal on its own. Every time a new layer of skin was forming, it was ripped off with the bandage. I still remember the feeling of skin ripping from my face. I must've been around five years old when my skin had finally healed, but the damage was permanent. 

"I was barely a month old when I had my first surgery to correct my cleft lip and palate. Normally it's done when the child is much older and in two different operations. Because I was so young and it was done in one operation, the cartilage of my nose broke down, causing my nose to collapse. The clefts in my lip and my palate were closed, but my nose was gone. 

"She tried laser to repair my skin and kept me from getting nutrients, so my limps wouldn't keep growing to be too long. She also tried fixing my nose several times over the years, my last surgery being around my 12th birthday. When it didn't succeed, she finally gave up and became completely distant from my life. Instead she hired nannies to give me care and tutors to teach me about the world. She told me that buying love would be the only way for someone like me to feel it."

Christine realized then that his thought about her being interested in his money wasn't his own. It was his mother's idea that had been planted in his head from he was a small child.

"I never met any other children, only doctors and nannies. However my nannies quickly noticed that I was interested in books, music, magic and drawing, so they got my mother to hire teachers to home school me from an early age. I advanced well and my mother actually encouraged my abilities by hiring the best teachers she could find. My favourite teacher was Monsieur Reyer who had been recommended by my mother's connections in France. I'd already taught myself how to play the piano and compose, but he taught me how to write the music down and how to play other instruments until he had taught me everything he knew. After that I started tinkering myself, exploring everything I could.

"My mother preferred that I studied something practical and by the age of 17 I'd earned a Master's degree in architecture, though I'd only left the house a handful of times. By this time I'd become aware of all the things I was missing. I had watched normal children from my window playing in the street and I'd read every book in the house, but everyone around me told me that only poor children ran free outside. It wasn't until I went to the University to receive my Master's degree I finally comprehended that I was the only one being kept inside.

"After that I decided to flee. It wasn't hard, though I didn't have any money. By entertaining the locals with a few magic tricks I earned enough money to take a ferry across the Caspian Sea away from Iran. It was on that ferry I met Nadir. He wanted to go to Europe and was curious when he saw me, a masked man who looked European. He had heard of the monstrous kid in the large mansion in Tehran and was eager to see what was beneath the mask, but he never pushed. However he never left me alone either. He told me about the normal world and I tried to follow the best I could while I taught him French. When we left the ferry in Russia, near Volgogard, he followed me to Europe and after searching for the right country for a few years, we settled in France.

"Like I've told you, my mother died when I was 19. We'd just found an apartment and employment in Paris when the press discovered that I was living in France after my parents had fled the country so many years ago. It was awful. I only left the apartment to go to work and often had to wait until after midnight to leave my employer. I was also contacted by my mother's lawyer who informed me of the great inheritance. As it had befallen to me, I wasn't obligated to repay the government of France for the tax evasion my father had a hand in. But I wanted nothing to do with it. Nadir and I built the capital ourselves to buy the theater."

Christine was surprised to hear how accomplished he was! However it was so strange to hear about his life lived in another country. She'd never have imagined that he'd been born anywhere other than France, let alone having lived there until his late teens. Of course it sounded like he had just lived in a little French cage of nannies and books.

It made her embarrassed that she'd been so head over heels over him, yet not even knowing these basic things about him. She'd told him so much about herself and she hadn't even known his place of birth. It made her ponder if she could trust her feelings.

"I never really learned to be among people though. It feels strange and I quickly become uncomfortable. The mask really doesn't help. So Nadir mostly takes care of the part of the business where you have to interact with people. You might've noticed that I have a hard time sharing things with you and I'm sorry for that. I've never had anyone to share my thoughts with, except for Nadir and even he hasn't pried much out of me about the time before I met him. But I'm trying to get better at it because I want to share things with you. Even as a friend..."

She didn't hear what he said after that because her thoughts occupied her entirely. The knowledge that he knew of this shortcoming and wanted to change it suddenly made her decide to forgive him. He wasn't at fault for fearing that she was after his money because his mother had told him that it was the only way for him to get affection. And he wanted to be better at sharing things with her. She didn't have to hear anymore right now and she was in such a hurry to let him in that she forgot to warn him before she opened the door and he fell into her apartment because he'd been leaning against the door.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Erik!" She yelped as he looked bewildered up at her from the floor and she tried her best to haul his long body up. She slammed the door shut and took his face in hers, her forehead against the forehead of his mask. "I'm so sorry." She whispered as her tears started to fall again. No child should have to endure what he had been through. It was astonishing that he seemed so normal at all. He nodded silently at her apology.

"I'm sorry too, Christine. I'm so sorry." He whispered, but she just shook her head at his apology. He wasn't the one who was at fault. Not even close.

"I didn't know. If I'd known what you'd been through with your own mother and the surgeries, I-"

"It doesn't matter. Not anymore." He wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace she hadn't anticipated. It felt so right and she leaned against him. Her hands against his mask longed for the touch of skin and she touched the edges of the mask lightly.

"Can I?" She asked in hope that he would let her. She wanted to show him that he didn't disgust her at all.

He shook his head. "Please, not right now. It's too..." He didn't have to elaborate. She understood that it was all too raw right now. So instead she wrapped her arms around his neck and softly pressed her lips against his. The kiss felt very tender, chaste, yet somehow exposing. When they pulled back and looked at each other again, they both had tears in their eyes, but neither of them spoke for a while.

Then Erik cleared his throat a bit. "I er... I brought chocolate. For myself!" He said nervously and picked up a bag, showing her the box of chocolate in the bag. "But we could share it with you if you want to." His small smile was crocked and absolutely endearing, but Christine still narrowed her eyes a bit. He'd definitely been talking to one of her friends about not receiving gifts. 

"You know, you've been kind of stalker-y these last couple of days." She said, trying to hide her smile.

"I think I have a knack for it, you know." He smirked. "It must be in my genes." 

Oh well. She smiled to him, grabbed the bag, took his hand and pulled him over to the couch to sit down. They sat in silence for a while, none of them knowing what to say. Erik was the one to speak first. 

"I didn't tell you any of this to excuse my behavior."

"I know." She tried to sound reassuring because she really did know this. 

"I did it because I wanted to share my past with you."

She took his hand again to squeeze it. "It means a lot to me. I just hope you didn't feel pressured to do it." It actually worried her a lot because the last thing she wanted was make him do something he didn't like. 

"I didn't feel pressured. But I will admit that you make me want to be brave when I haven't been brave before. It's been that way since the first time I heard you sing and it has only grown stronger. Whatever it is you're doing, it's making me stronger and I can't imagine my life without your smile, your teasing and your voice."

Christine only just let him finish the sentence before she kissed him. She let him set the pace to avoid that he would be overwhelmed, but it quickly turned fervent. His hands were suddenly everywhere at once, altering between a light touch and lustful grasping. Her body's sudden heat surprised her and she clutched his shirt tightly, pulling him closer and holding onto him all at once.

"Am I coming on too strong?" He drew back suddenly and it took her a moment to register what he had asked. She looked into his eyes and saw desire and doubt in his nearly amber eyes. Hopefully he could see only desire in hers. 

"God, no!" She shrieked and if she wasn't so turned on, she would've been embarrassed. Her hands travelled on their own initiative to his mask that framed those eyes. "Can I see you?"

He closed his eyes for a moment and she was sure he would say no. "Why would you want that, Christine?" He spoke softly and almost painfully. She knew why and it would probably be like this for a while every time she wanted him to take off the mask.

"Because when I see you in my mind, this..." she touched the mask, "isn't in the way. I see you as you are and I like it."

His breath hitched as he held back a sob. How vulnerable he was. She'd only seen him interact with other people two times, but he seemed so reserved, even around Nadir. But here in this private setting he let go of those barriers. He took her face in his hands and kissed her slow and tenderly while his thumbs brushed over her cheeks gently. When the kiss ended, he rested his masked forehead against her forehead as they breathed deeply in union. 

She reached up with her right hand and rested it onto of his hand on her cheek, then squeezing it lightly and lowering it, so she could trace his calloused fingertips. It was something she apparently liked a lot, she realized. "Do you still play? Piano, I mean."

He put a little distance between them to look at her with a small lift of his lips. "A few more than that."

"Wow, which ones?"

"Piano, guitar, cello, drums, saxophone, clarinet, but my favourite is the violin. It's probably the cause of the callous." The careful, yet calm way he spoke made it clear that he wasn't interested in bragging (unlike Raoul). And she was grateful that Erik wasn't the type to be ready to take a photo and post it on social media (again like Raoul) because she must've looked awful at that moment. She literally had to close her mouth with a conscious thought when she noticed that she was gaping.

"Erik, that's incredible! I didn't know. Actually my dad was a violinist."

"I know. I realized it when I learned of your last name a few days ago when I was waiting outside your door." Christine was embarrassed by the fact that she'd slept with a man before he even knew her last name. She'd acted too fast with Erik which she usually didn't. It was more Meg's thing. "I saw your father perform several times when I first came to Europe. First in Austria, later Italy and finally here in France after I settled. Though I did fly to Denmark to see him play. He was mesmerizing when he played. His precision and skills were only eclipsed by his passion. I decided to learn violin after seeing him in Austria. It's a difficult instrument to master."

Christine tried to hold back a sob, but it was no use. "What's wrong, Christine? Did I say something wrong?" Erik looked so alarmed that she had to laugh a bit. She managed a smile between the tears.

"No, no. It's just so wonderful to hear someone talk about him like that. Music was the most important thing in his life. And me. He struggled so hard to make a living because he never got an education and he was so relieved when I got a scholarship to the Conservatory. But I know he would be so disappointed if he was here now." She looked down at their entwined hands, his thumb stroking her knuckles. He'd felt so uncomfortable with simple touches when they'd watched the Tonys together, but now he was doing it unconsciously. He craved the human contact and she craved his touch.

"Why in the world would he be disappointed? You're one of the best pianist in Paris according to the Conservatory's news letter." Erik's words promoted her to look back at him and raise an eyebrow. How did he know that? He seemed to realize that he'd let something slip. "I may have googled you. Only to see a picture in case I didn't see you again... But then I read about you and how accomplished you are." She detected a blush beneath the mask, though it was difficult to say. 

"It's okay, Erik. And yes, I am good at playing piano, but my real passion is singing. My dad knew that. He told me that my voice was heaven sent and I shouldn't waste it. But I have." The thought was discouraging. Apparently this evening was meant for tears and revelations. 

Erik gripped her hands in his. "I agree that your voice is heaven sent. I wasn't flattering you when I told you that I could use a beautiful voice in my life when we first met and if you wish it I will gladly teach you. Even if you prefer to wear a mask or if we have to dust off the whole Conservatory while doing it." She smiled at his words. He remembered it all. But she was a bit worried about having him as a teacher. She was pretty sure that he was a perfectionist and at the theater he'd seemed extremely strict to the women who auditioned. 

She saw him ponder for a moment, then he got up and walked to the kitchen. He poured two glasses of wine, took them skillfully in one hand and walked back her and grabbed her hand. "Come with me." He led her down to her bedroom, pausing for a moment when he saw the mess in there. He put the wine glasses on the vanity and sat down on the stool by her keyboard, turning it on and unplugging the headphones she used when she didn't want to disturb Meg. He played a warm up scale and looked at her expectantly.  

"Erik, you can't expect me to just sing." She was already beginning to feel extremely nervous at the thought of singing in front of him.

"You're right." He got up and walked to her, reaching over her shoulder to shut the door behind her. Unsure he came to stand completely flush up against her and looked down at her with a fond expression. She felt her heart beat faster. He took her hand and led it up to the back of his head where he used her fingers to pull a the strings of his mask. He didn't meet her eyes when the mask left his face, but placed it carefully on her face instead. He backed away and finally looked at her.

She'd expected to react by instinct when she saw his face again and had prepared herself for hiding the shock from him to avoid hurting him. But the shock never came. She smiled at his familiar face and saw relief fill him. He sat back down at the keyboard and played the warm up scale again.

"Now I'm the only one exposed." He said. "We'll start slow together, okay?" She nodded and followed his voice as he warmed their voices up and she felt herself relax quickly. He tested her range and pushed her voice higher than she thought possible.

 

***

Meg unlocked the door quietly and looked in carefully in case someone was doing something naughty on the couch. She was pretty disappointed when Christine and Erik were absent, no signs of anyone having been here besides Christine who'd probably gone to bed by now. Meg walked inside and shut the door behind her. Dammit, she'd been sure that Christine would finally forgive him. She'd groomed her roommate for it all week.

And now she owed Nadir 10 Euros. That man had no confidence in Erik's romantic skills which made sense when he'd told her about Erik as a person. But she knew how much Christine liked the odd man, so she'd been sure that this night would be it.

She was just about to text Nadir when she noticed the sounds coming from Christine's bedroom. It wasn't sex noises, but instead singing. She realized that Christine and Erik were in there, singing and laughing. Ha! 

10 Euros richer she texted Nadir that she'd won the bet.

 

***

Christine had completely forgotten how wonderful it was to sing freely. It was like she could open her mind up and let her soul shine through. And when she saw the look in Erik's eyes her heart beat furiously against her chest and butterflies fluttered around them.

They were singing Elaborate Lives from Aida and he'd tugged her down in his lap on the stool. It surely couldn't comfortable, but he didn't say anything as they played together and sang the beautiful duet. When she sang the last of Aida's part he began to nuzzle her neck, only using his mouth since his nose wasn't there. He kissed her skin and she barely got the last words out when he bit her earlobe carefully. Before he got the chance to sing again, she'd turned in his lap and straddled him, initiating a heartfelt kiss.

God, she was so attracted to him, not even bothered by his misshaped face. She felt his arousal pressing into her thigh and she moved slightly and started to grind her core against him.

"Oh, Christine!" He moaned into her mouth and thrust up against her and she became aware of how wet she was. She began unbuttoning his waistcoat, glad that he'd already removed his jacket. After the waistcoat she began on his shirt while he kissed her throat and her neck with his clever thin lips. He sucked at her pulsepoint and she wondered for a moment if she would end up with a hickey, discovering that she really didn't care because she _really_ didn't want him to stop.

Finally his shirt came off and she ran her hands over his lean chest. She scratched lightly and enjoyed seeing the goosebumps prickle over his pale skin. He tugged at her t-shirt and she let him pull it over her head, taking the opportunity to kiss his body like he'd kissed hers. She removed the mask and slowly descended, crawling off his lap and to the floor while flickering and sucking his small dark nipples. He thrust his cock into her cleavage which was in the perfect position. She removed her bra, then opened his trousers and pulled his length out of his boxers before continuing with his nipples. The valley between her breasts cradled his cock and she moved back and forth to stroke him, enticing him until he reflexively began to thrust. 

"God! Christine, it's been. too long. It's. too much!" He gasped out in short breaths as he tried to fight thrusting between her breasts.

"It's okay, we've got time." She said before twisting a nipple carefully, then reached down to massage his sack. His thrusts grew frantic and she pulled back a little to see him pleasuring himself with her breasts. It was glorious and incredibly erotic. He saw it too, moaning loudly and desperately at the sight and she felt him swell in her cleavage.

"Christine, fuck! Fuck, yes!" He came with a jolt, spurting white lines over her chest while groaning. She'd never done this before and it had been a spontaneous action, but it left her utterly wet and begging for release. 

He reached for his shirt to wipe them clean, but she gave him her t-shirt instead. "You don't have anything else here." She said and he nodded and started to remove his cum from her chest. She got up for the floor, but just barely before he swept her up in a bridal pose and carried her to the bed. He was much stronger than she'd imagined, carrying her like she was light as a feather. He laid her gently down on the bed and positioned himself next to her.

He kissed her deeply, trailing his hand over her jaw and further down until it had sneaked down to unbutton her jeans. She gladly helped him when he pulled them down over her hips. He licked her clavicle while a calloused finger rubbed her swollen clit through the cotton of her panties. She bucked against his hand. Her skin was on fire and her panties were soaking which he discovered as his hand sought lower and cupped her.

"Oh Christine, how wet you are." His voice was gentle and light as slik. Hhe opened her eyes to look at him as he began to circle a nipple with his tongue and his eyes on her. His hand dipped under her panties, gathering moisture from her opening to her clit and stroking it lightly with a fingertip.

Her eyes widened at his touch, along with his tongue flicking over her nipple and his blazing eyes on her. "Erik, please." She panted and he smirked. 

"There's nothing more pleasing than giving you pleasure." He took her nipple into his mouth and sucked it hard. A finger entered her, making her buck again, but he held her down with his other hand. He pushed his groin against her leg and she felt him hard again so soon. His mouth let her nipple go with a pop. "My name on your lips is the sweetest sound. You've made me so hard already, Christine and I want to be inside you again. The feeling of you is like no other." 

She loved the way his gentle, enthralling voice said the dirtiest things and she willed her eyes to stay open and not lose his intense gaze. Another finger entered her and his thumb began to circle her clit, slightly brushing against it time and again. Where did he learn all this? He moved with precision and skill, multitasking like no human should be able to. It must be the musician in him, she thought.

Gradually his thumb settled on her and he began lick and nibbling her other breast, his eyes not leaving hers the whole time. She was burning all over, growing closer to her climax, almost fearing the moment she'd fall over the edge because of the intensity. 

Suddenly his fingers curled inside of her, touching a spot that made her scream. He noticed it instantly and repeated the movement a few more times until she was coming loudly and hard against his hand. She whimpered with his name on her lips as her pleasure pulsed through her. He kept stroking the spot and her clit while watching her as she fell into another orgasm, panting and shaking. Her vision blackened briefly before she came down. It was overwhelming and violent, but truly phenomenal.

Her vision finally focused and she saw him lying with his head on her stomach. "Where the hell did you learn that?" She croaked. Her throat was completely dry. 

He smiled shyly and shrugged. "By watching your reactions. I'm a quick study, I guess." He lifted his head and began to crawl over her body like a panther, just like in the movies, but instead of the passionate kiss she expected, he only brushed against her lips softly like she was made of glass. Which she almost felt like after the mind blowing orgasms he'd just given her. She could still feel him hard against her thigh, but he made no move to go any further.

"Christine, I..." He said as he pulled back and looked at her. His nervous lime colored eyes shone brightly in the soft light of her room. "I don't want to come on too strong and it's okay that you don't feel the same way, but I just want you to know that... I'm utterly in love with you." The sincerity and adoration in his eyes took her breath away as his words echoed her own feelings.

"Oh Erik!" She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. It felt so strange that she had given her heart to a man she'd barely spent time with, but their time together had been so intense. And she couldn't deny her feelings, especially not when he dared to share his. "I'm in love with you too. I've been falling ever since I met you." 

He laughed in relief and she joined him. "Is it always this scary?" 

"I don't know. I've never felt like this before." She answered honestly. Whatever it had been with Raoul, she'd never been in love with him - something she had first fully understood when she'd realized the feelings she had for Erik. She loved Raoul, yes, but was never in love with him. "I just know that I really want to make this work because I think about you constantly."

"Me too. I haven't been able to focus on anything else and the last week has been hell. I wanna share each day with you, each night, each morning. Can I stay tonight?

"I wouldn't have it any other way." She smiled and kissed him softly again. But this time neither of them could keep it slow after their confessions. The kiss grew hungry. The ache erupted once more between her legs and became unbearable when he pushed his cock against her softness. "Erik" She gasped between kisses and he paused to remove his trousers and boxers while she took her jeans and panties completely off. 

He came down to her again and she spread her legs to make room for him. She wished he had a nose to nuzzle when his face aligned with hers, but instead she looked him deeply in the eyes and reached down to lead him to her opening. "Christine," he moaned when he pushed inside and filled her completely in one slide. She still had to get used to his thickness and she struggled to breathe for a few seconds while she adjusted to him. He seemed to be aware of it as he looked into her slightly hazed eyes and kept still. Her inner muscles twitched against him and he muttered a curse word in a controlled breath. 

When she felt more comfortable, she rolled her hips to let him know. He began to move slowly in and out of her, taking his time while kissing her softly everywhere. She gripped his hair and tugged, making him lose his rhythm momentarily, groaning against her throat. His right hand crept down to hold onto her hips while the left kneaded her breast and rolled her nipple between his fingers. Her nails raked down his back and she lifted her hips to meet his rhythm.

Suddenly he slid his hands under her arms and lifted her up, so he sat on his knees with her riding him. He held her firmly, so she didn't fall backwards. They began moving together, her riding and grinding while he pushed into her. The position was so intimate with their upper bodies flush up against each other and he kissed her lovingly while they moved together.

Her body began to climb again and his sharp perception picked up on it. He shifted his angle while eyeing her intensely and suddenly he was stroking that place he'd found with his fingers before. "God!" she gasped as she felt her body react to the slide of his head brushing that spot over and over until she was moaning his name in sweet release. She heard him groan loudly as he let go inside her and they tipped over, so she landed scrawled on top of his chest.

They stayed there panting while they both came down. "Christine?" His voice was only a breath against her curls.  


"Yeah?" 

"Does this mean that you're my girlfriend now?" He sounded so wholehearted, asking that silly question while they were still catching their breaths after their mutual orgasms and a laugh escaped her. He instantly tensed up, so she held it back.

"Of course. I hope so anyway." She lifted her head and looked at him with honest, adoring eyes. 

"Then what's so funny?" He seemed slightly wounded and she crawled up to kiss him and nuzzled her nose against his cheek with the lack of a better alternative.

"Nothing. I just haven't been asked that since 4th grade." 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That moment where the short follow up story gets almost as long as the first one. Oh well.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it. Comments always welcome!


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